


Just A Servant

by arrowsandnat



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Merlin, Hurt/Comfort, Possible Magic Reveal, Protective Arthur, Protective Gwaine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-01-23 17:45:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1574195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arrowsandnat/pseuds/arrowsandnat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some servants, according to a few rather violent knights, need to be taught their place, and Merlin certainly doesn't seem to know his. When Arthur finds his manservant on the floor in the middle of the hall one night, how will he react? I know it's been done, but I'm a sucker for protective!Arthur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the standard "Knights picking on Merlin" story. I don't see any exciting plot twists in the future, but we'll see where it goes. Happy reading!

It is too much for the servant. The beatings from the knights coupled with the death of Lancelot had sucked the light from the young warlock’s eyes. He hadn’t told anyone, not even Gaius, and he could feel the pressure building inside him more and more each day. Will. Balinor. Lancelot. Freya...

So many dead. So many he could have saved. As Sirs Kay and Robert kick and kick and kick at him that night, all Merlin can see is Lancelot’s face as the beast ripped him in half. It’s his fault, all his fault.

When the knights finally stop, laughing and leaving him with “I hope you learned your lesson today, but probably not”, he takes a minute to breathe. He gasps on the corridor floor and tries to ignore the pain in his ribs. He knows how conspicuous he is here, but everything hurts too badly to move and he’ll only be a minute, anyway, so he continues to lie there and hopes that nobody will see him before he can pull himself together.

No such luck. Merlin has only just started to recover when Arthur rounds the corner. “Merlin?” The alarm in his voice is evident, and the King is by his servant’s side in an instant, sitting on his haunches and gripping the man’s shoulder tightly. “Merlin, what’s happened?” 

“Nothing,” Merlin coughs into his hand. He makes a point of sitting up, and clears his throat before starting again in a much clearer voice. “It’s nothing. I tripped, is all.”

Arthur’s grip tightens almost imperceptibly on his shoulder. “Merlin.”

The sorcerer notes the blood on the hand he coughed into. Damn. He will not be able to explain himself out of this one so easily. “It was a large trip,” he says, as if that makes sense.

“Merlin. Tell me who did this to you.” The King’s eyes blaze with an odd mixture of anger and worry, but his voice remains steady. Calm. Serious. 

“No one, Sire, I told you, I trip-”

“Tell the truth.” Arthur’s fingers are positively digging into Merlin’s shoulder by this point. Merlin doesn’t want him to know what the knights are doing to him nearly every night -- there is something inherently humiliating in his beatings, in his utter lack of defense. And further, Arthur could easily make it much worse by trying to say something to Kay and Robert. 

So Merlin only averts his eyes and shakes his head at his master.

“Look at me.” The King has both hands on the servant’s shoulders, and he stares at the man until he meets his eyes. “If somebody’s hurting you, I want to know. Nobody has the right to treat you this way.”

Merlin is not a coward, not so cowed by his attackers that he will not speak; it is the idea that he cannot protect Arthur that holds his tongue. Instead of a witty retort or casual dismissal, as he would have liked, Merlin says, “It’s nothing I can’t handle, sire.”

“Obviously not,” Arthur snorts, his concern momentarily overridden. “Come on, then, let’s get you to Gaius. You can tell me on the way.”

Merlin allows the King to haul him to his feet and nearly collapses as a fresh wave of pain crashes against his ribs. At least one is broken, then, which is unfortunate. Arthur supports him, and they begin the long hobble back to Gaius’s chambers.

********

Arthur’s night had been going relatively well until he rounds a corner to find his manservant curled into a ball on the corridor floor. 

Whatever the idiot has done, it looks serious, and Arthur does not hesitate in dropping to his side. He doubted they were under attack, but judging by the gasping and coughing emanating from the servant, Merlin hadn’t gotten this way on his own. “Merlin? What’s happened?”

“Nothing,” Merlin manages as he coughs profusely into his hand, and as he pulls away Arthur can see blood staining his fingers. This is most certainly not nothing.  
Merlin sits shakily and ends up leaning against the wall in a manner Arthur supposes he thinks is casual. “It’s nothing,” he repeats. “I tripped, is all.”

He is so obviously lying that for a moment the King is taken aback. “Merlin.” What reason has he to lie? Who would target Merlin, for heaven’s sake? The man couldn’t hurt someone if he wanted to, which he definitely doesn’t. His grip on his servant’s shoulder tightens subconsciously. Who would hurt Merlin?

“It was a large trip.”

As if that makes sense. Hot fury wells in the pit of his stomach as he sees the fear behind his friend’s eyes. Who is he protecting? Arthur wants to hit something very, very badly. “Merlin. Who did this to you?”

“No one, I just tr-” Merlin’s eyes widen as Arthur interrupts him.

“Tell the truth,” the King forces through gritted teeth. Why won’t he tell him?

Merlin shakes his head and won’t meet his eyes.

He looks so small without the goofy grin spread across his face, Arthur thinks. Concern mixed with a roaring anger burns inside the King of Camelot. He moves his other hand to Merlin’s other shoulder, offering the man no choice but to look at him. He takes a deep breath. “If somebody’s hurting you, I want to know. Nobody,” he stresses, “has the right to treat you this way.” 

As the words leave his mouth, Arthur suddenly remembers a younger version of himself, one who would not have balked at such treatment of a mere servant, who would never have thought the man in front of him as someone who mattered. Arthur nearly cringes at how wrong that self was. He is glad, so glad that Merlin barged into his life the way he had and changed the arrogant, blind boy he had been. 

His friend’s wide, striking blue eyes search his, looking for -- what? But the moment passes, and Merlin’s eyes steel in a tired sort of way. “It’s nothing I can’t handle, sire.”

That statement, considering Merlin’s current state, is so ridiculous that Arthur has to laugh. The spindly manservant, fighting off whoever did this to him? “Obviously not,” he says aloud. “Come on, then, let’s get you to Gaius. You can tell me on the way.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur wants answers, and Merlin isn't too keen on providing them.

Arthur stands and hauls the servant to his feet. The raven-haired man immediately suckers an arm around his middle and nearly collapses. "Here," Arthur says, and he promptly wraps his arm around Merlin's waist before the servant keels over altogether. He really is hurt, still coughing occasionally and breathing hard as they walk back to Gaius's.

"So," the king says once they have gone a ways, "Are you going to tell me now, or do I have to throw you in the stocks for a week?"

Merlin is silent for a long pause, and Arthur is about to threaten him again when he says suddenly, "Sirs Robert and Kay." His voice, usually so cheerful that Arthur wants to throttle him, twists bitterly around the word "Sirs."

Arthur nearly stops in shock. "What?" There is no way his knights would do something like this, especially to someone as naive and innocent as Merlin. He pictures the two knights, both large, hulking men, towering over the helpless servant as they beat him and feels a rush of anger so intense he almost has to hit the wall. Nobody hurt Merlin and got away with it. The knights will pay, damn the consequences.

"You heard what I said. Kay and Robert." The servant's voice as he responds matches the mocking half-smile on his face, and Arthur doesn't like it. Not at all.

A thought hits him suddenly. "Merlin? Is this the only time?"

"No."

"How long has this been going on?"

"A bit," Merlin responds shortly.

Arthur wonders for a second if his friend is mad at him for not noticing sooner, but he tosses that idea out quickly. Merlin couldn't be mad at anybody if he tried. In fact, he probably isn't even mad at the knights that beat him half to death. _Well_ , Arthur thinks, _I'll just have to make up for it_. He's plenty angry enough for the both of them.

"Since when?"

"I don't remember."

This troubles Arthur more than he cares to admit, but Gaius' door swings open and Merlin is saved from further interrogation. Gaius takes one look at the pair and sighs. "On the cot," he says, waving them inside.

Arthur steps in and gently deposits Merlin on the cot. Merlin sits gratefully, a look of relief on his face.

"What happened?" Gaius bustles over to them, and Arthur steps out of the way.

Merlin doesn't answer, so Arthur clears his throat and does it for him. "He was attacked."

Gaius' frown deepens as he looks the servant over. Poor Merlin winces every time the old man makes contact with his skin, even though his hands are exceedingly gentle with years of tending to the wounded. After a while of this, the king standing tense in the corner the whole time, Gaius nods. "Shirt off, I need to look at your ribs."

Surprisingly, Merlin, who had hitherto sat uncomplaining through the physician's assessment, shakes his head emphatically. "No," he says, his lips pressing together. Arthur realizes suddenly that there is no sign of Merlin's neckerchief.

"Merlin, I'm too old for this. Shirt off."

Arthur can see his friend's eyes have gone wide, but he can't tell whether it's in panic or resignation. He sighs heavily and in one movement tugs off the thin - _too thin, it's the middle of the winter, no wonder he was shaking_ \- shirt.

Gaius has seen too many injuries to so much as flinch at the colorful palette of bruises his ward's chest has become, but Arthur hasn't. Dealing with battle wounds his entire life does not prepare the king for the swirling, irregular patterns of blue and yellow and green that decorate the servant, because instead of being on trained and hardened knights, these are on Merlin, defenseless Merlin...

Arthur's fists tighten convulsively. The bruises show long-term abuse; this isn't the first time Merlin has been beaten half to death.

"Oh Merlin," Gaius murmurs while Arthur works on controlling his breathing, "You should have told me."

The servant shrugs. "Didn't want you to worry."

"How long?" Arthur repeats. This is the question his mind has come back to. How long has Merlin been hurting right under his nose? Even as he watches the man on the cot, he is mentally replaying all his interactions with his servant over the past few weeks. Nothing seemed wrong - but how could he have been so negligent as to miss _this_?

And why wouldn't Merlin tell him? Is he really that untrustworthy? Why-

Gaius chooses that moment to press gently on his ward's ribcage, and Merlin hisses loudly enough to jolt Arthur from his thoughts. "I think it's broken," he says, his voice forced through gritted teeth. Gaius nods again and moves to fetch wrappings.

Arthur doesn't miss the complete dismissal of his question. "Merlin, how long?"

"I told you, I don't remember," he grinds, but his face gives him away. Merlin's always been a terrible liar.

 _He must not have been that bad, if he could hide this from you_ , an ugly little voice in the back of his head whispers. Arthur dismisses the voice angrily, but the words pound in his head. _He hid this. He hid this from me. I thought he trusted me._ Surely Merlin knows what Arthur thinks of him, even if he's never been too vocal about it. So he lets his anger fuel him and snorts, "Not good enough."

"I don't know, alright! A while."

" _Mer_ -"

"A month!" The servant shouts, springing to his feet. Arthur is shocked into silence. He winces, the pain in his ribs seeming to deflate him, and sags back onto the cot. "A month," he repeats more softly. "The first time was the day after we returned from the wyvern hunt."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More from Merlin's perspective next chapter :)


	3. Chapter 3

Fear ripped through him. They knew. They _knew_. And unless he "learned his place," as Sirs Kay and Robert put it, and learned it fast, they were going to tell Arthur.

It turned out Robert and Kay had followed him the day he and Arthur had returned from hunting the wyverns. Merlin had headed straight to the armory, unaware of the men who stalked him, and, careless with fatigue, started cleaning Arthur's armor with magic with only a cursory check of the room first.

And they'd seen.

It wasn't until the next day that the two knights had cornered him in the back stall of the stables. They had...explained their position. "Listen, servant," Kay had sneered, his mouth twisting around the word. "You're nothing but a peasant and a traitor. You're nothing! You have no right to act like you are, Gods forbid, the King's equal!"

"Arthur is-" Merlin had begun angrily, but he was cut off by a vicious kick to his stomach.

"You will show respect!" Robert all but screeched. The way his voice tore through two octaves in a single sentence would almost have been comical if it had not been for his next words. "You will learn your place, sorcerer, or we'll have your head. Your precious king will hand it to us himself. You think yourself his friend? He will kill you the instant he knows what you are."

And here the nightmare started.

At least three times a week the knights had little "chats" with him, and there was nothing he could do about it. He could not, would not, risk Arthur finding out his secret; this close to Uther's death, there was no way he would accept his magic. It might even turn him against magic forever, to know that his confidant had betrayed him. Merlin would not chance it, no matter what Robert and Kay did to him. So he held his tongue, let the knights hit and kick and punch as they saw fit. Around the king, Merlin worked hard to keep his dopey grin on his face, to pretend nothing was wrong; in public, however, he kept his head down, stayed silent, and maintained some semblance of distance.

They beat him anyway. It didn't matter what he did, they always found time to "talk" with him, late at night as he made the trek from the king's chambers to his own.

It is almost fortunate, Merlin thinks as he sits in Gaius', that Arthur stumbled upon him when he did. Physically and mentally, the warlock is at the end of his rope, and the knowledge that all this is finally going to stop brings an almost dizzying sense of relief. He is at the point where he nearly doesn't care that this relief comes at the cost of Arthur finding out about his magic - some part of Merlin wants to think that the king will not believe Robert and Kay when they tell him or even that Robert and Kay will not tell him at all, but he knows better than to hope for it. He wonders suddenly if this will be his last night in Camelot.

He is pulled back to the present as Arthur's mouth snaps shut. The king's jaw works furiously as if he is actually chewing on his next words. "A - month? You've been keeping this from me for an entire month?"

Merlin shrugs. He isn't sure how he can explain himself, since the tavern isn't a viable excuse, so he stays silent.

Arthur seems to be struggling with something. The silence stretches on for an uncomfortably long few minutes. A wave of fatigue threatens to drown the servant as he observes his master. He's so tired. He just wants to sleep and pretend none of this ever happened.

Gaius steps back from his patient suddenly. "I'll go get some bandages." Merlin supposes the physician is trying to give him and Arthur a moment alone, and he is unsure whether he's grateful for it or not.

The king makes no move to stop the old man, and the second the door closes he rounds on the servant. "Why," he growls, "in the name of all that is holy did you let this go on? Gods, Merlin, I could've stopped it in a half a second if you'd told me!" Merlin feels fear ping through him: Arthur wants answers, and the stubborn prat looks like he's going to shake him until he gets them. He has already grabbed Merlin's shoulders and is staring him down.

Merlin averts his eyes. He can't tell him.

"I'm serious, Merlin," Arthur insists. "Why have you let this continue?" He pauses, something akin to hurt flashing across his face. "Did you think I wouldn't stop it? Or do they have something over you? Did they threaten someone? Whoever it is, we can make sure they're safe. Come on, Merlin, tell me!"

 _He sounds livid_ , the warlock thinks idly. He recognizes an out in the king's words, however, and seizes it gladly. "It - it's Gaius. They said they'd do to him what they were doing to me. It would kill him, Arthur. They said they had friends who would do it if they were gone." Lie delivered, he dares to meet his friend's eyes.

Arthur's grip on his shoulders relaxed somewhat. "You idiot," he says, shaking his head. His face takes on a slightly incredulous look, one the servant has seen many times before. "Did you honestly think I can't have protected Gaius? It's two guards at his door and to go on rounds with him. Seriously, Merlin, it's not even hard."

Merlin stares at the floor. He knows his excuse is weak, but there's not much else he can think of that his master would accept.

Arthur sighs. "Stay here," he says in his best king voice, the one of iron that none could disobey. "I'll send down Percival and Elyan to stay with you, alright?"

He nods with a cool relief settling over him. He has been granted a brief reprieve from Arthur's questioning, time enough to formulate a story that will appease the angry king, but he knows he will have to face him eventually.

The king searches his servant's face for a long moment, and then gives his shoulder a final squeeze and strides out of the room. Merlin watches him go, and a part of him marvels at the control and fury, together in equal measure, that rolls off of Arthur in waves as he walks. _Gods_ , Merlin thinks somewhere, _he's going to make a great king._

Again he wonders if he will be there to see it. Merlin isn't a stranger to the thoughts that start to rise up within him, the thoughts that turn his stomach but he thinks anyway. He imagines Arthur's face when he realizes he's been betrayed; Arthur, refusing to listen to him and going hard and cruel before his eyes; Arthur, sentencing him to death or banishment; Arthur, becoming Uther. He can picture nothing worse. Second purges and druids dying, crying children and broken homes.

Gaius returns the minute Arthur leaves. Merlin can't bear to look at him; he doesn't want to face the man he considers his surrogate father. The old physician shuffles over to the warlock and quietly begins to tend to him. "Gaius," Merlin manages finally. "They know."

Gaius freezes halfway through applying salve to his back. "What?"

"Robert and Kay. That's why I didn't say anything. They saw me once, in the armory. I was tired, I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry."

"Do they have proof besides what they saw?" The physician resumes salving, but Merlin feels his hands shaking slightly.

"No, I don't think so, but Gaius-"

"Arthur won't believe anything they say," Gaius says firmly. "He cares for you a great deal, Merlin."

Merlin shakes his head. "He's not sane when it comes to magic. "

"Have faith in him. You are his Emrys; he cannot truly forsake you, just as you could never forsake him. In time he will forgive you."

Merlin stays silent, but a small part of him hopes.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur is so angry he wonders how his skin is not melting off with the heat of it. He forces himself to walk at a somewhat kingly pace as he strides to the knights' quarters, ablaze with a righteous fury. The torches flicker on the walls, and it never crosses Arthur's mind how he must look in the low lighting. He has room for nothing in his head but the burning need to punch something – some _one_ – to rip apart the cowards who had done this with his bare hands and set the pieces on fire.

Vaguely Arthur wonders how much of this is Gwaine rubbing off on him, but the idea only lingers for a moment before he disregards it. No, this is Merlin, Merlin, damn him, getting himself into trouble right and left. The trek to the knights' takes far too long, and every second only adds to the king's fire. By the time he finally halts in front of Percival's door, his gaze could slay armies. "Percival!" He bangs on the wood loudly; nothing in him is dictating discretion with the image of a battered Merlin curled protectively around himself burned onto the backs of his eyelids.

There are muffled sounds of bedsprings and tired feet, and the giant knight, clad in a white nightshirt, appears in the doorframe with sword in hand. "Sire," he says, surprise coloring his tone. "What's happening?"

"Merlin's been attacked," Arthur says shortly. "I need you to wake Elyan and stand guard at Gaius' chambers – they've been threatened."

Percival's face speaks of shock and confusion, but he nods curtly when Arthur finishes. Arthur gives him a searching look, and, satisfied, turns on his heel and begins to walk away.

"Sire?"

Arthur turns back to the quiet voice. Percival shifts his weight from foot to foot and says, "Is Merlin alright?"

"He's…" His voice trails off as the image of Merlin pressed against the wall rises behind his eyes. "He's going to be fine. He's conscious, at least."

The knight nods once, and Arthur leaves him. At the next door he bangs on, he receives a much less deferential welcome. "What's going on? Dammit, Princess, I was asleep." Gwaine rubs his eyes blearily and scowls at him, his famous hair sticking out at odd angles from his head. "This had better be good," he says around a yawn.

"Frankly, I'm amazed you're here at all and not out wooing some barmaid," Arthur replies.

Gwaine winces theatrically. "Well, the Rising Sun is going to be…out of the question for a bit, and I tried the wench at the Meadow last week."

Arthur is torn between irritation and amusement in some far corner of his mind. He swallows a sigh at the shameless grin on the rogue's face and lets the situation come back to him. "Well, it's good you're here. I need you."

"Do you now? What can I do you for, Princess?"

Arthur sucks in a breath and hopes he doesn't get punched before he can explain. "It's Merlin. He's – he's been attacked." It's interesting, a bit, the way Gwaine's face freezes and all the cheeriness drains away before twisting into an odd mixture of anger and concern.

"Where is he?" Gwaine pushes off the doorframe.

"He's with Gaius. He's – he's not okay, but he's conscious and lucid."

The knight brushes past his sovereign and starts down the hall, and Arthur knows it's useless to try and stop him where Merlin's involved. He simply says, "Come back once you've seen him. I'm having a chat with the ones who did it."

Gwaine throws a hand up in response but does not stop.

Arthur waits for fifteen minutes. His blood simmers and boils as the thoughts of Merlin hurt, beaten like a dog fill his mind again, and without the immediate promise of punishing the guilty he has no outlet to vent his fury. He can't stand the waiting but he knows that things could end badly for someone other than Robert and Kay if he goes alone and besides, it would not be fair to leave Gwaine out of this. The knight was closest to Merlin next to Arthur himself.

Merlin. For the life of him Arthur cannot understand why the servant hadn't told him what was happening. Did he really think that he couldn't trust him? It makes Arthur sick to think that his friend would rather let himself be beaten than tell him what was going on? _He wouldn't do that_ , a voice in the royal's head pipes angrily.

_He just did!_

_That's not why he did it. You know the idiot; he's got no sense of self-preservation and every sense of self-sacrificing stupidity! If Gaius were in danger he would do everything to keep him safe._

_But even that doesn't make sense! It's not hard to protect one man, and I'm the bloody king._

_Maybe_ , a darker, more sinister voice whispers, _maybe he didn't think you'd believe him._

_Of course I believe him! I saw the bruises myself!_

_It's a servant's word against a knight's. Who wins?_

_Merlin's not_ – Arthur shakes his head, frustrated with himself and uneasy underneath the anger. _It's different_ , he settles on finally.

_Have you ever given him any reason to believe that?_ The other voice points out scathingly.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Arthur realizes that really, he hasn't. All he ever says to his servant is a constant barrage of insults, snide comments that pick at his intelligence, his usefulness, even his place in Arthur's life – how unimportant he is, when really, it's the exact opposite. _But still_ , the stubborn voice in his head argues resolutely. _He can't think I'd just let this go._

Arthur would rather bite off his own tongue than say so, but he trusts Merlin more than anyone else in the world. Merlin is the embodiment of all that is good in Arthur's eyes, truly, and the thought of anyone hurting the puppy of a man is beyond him. It makes him so angry he could see red, and he is grateful that Gwaine chooses then to make a reappearance. The knight's movements are sharp and long, and there seemed to be a cold fury billowing around him. His eyes were hard and determined, and he stopped just short of where Arthur stood stiff beside the wall. "Who?" he says, and the tease normally present in his tone is long gone.

"Would you like to talk with them?" Arthur says, his eyebrow arching. He has never seen this version of Gwaine before, and to be honest, it's a bit scary. But he is glad for it, simmering with the need to burn and rip and kill Robert and Kay.

The knight walks right past Arthur without so much as a sideways glance, but he seems to realize two steps later that he doesn't know where he's going and grinds to an impatient halt, barking out a terse "Let's go," that the king obeys without a thought. After all, this is Merlin, and the rules just seem to bend themselves around him, like he exists in his own pocket of reality where servants and kings stand side by side as equals – as friends. And now Arthur's there with him.

He's pissed that it's taken this to get him to see it, but Merlin _is_ his friend. The man he trusts above all others, who he knows will always stand by him. It is alarming, the depth of the devotion the man has unfailingly shown him. Whether he admits it to himself or not, he worries all the time that the self-sacrificing idiot is going to do something stupid and noble and Arthur will be left alone again.

Less alone than he was when Merlin first exploded into his life, but with a rather large part missing. Alone, nonetheless.

He pulls himself out of it abruptly as he stops in front of an unassuming door. Robert and Kay. Arthur takes a breath and gathers himself into King Arthur, striving for the last of his considerable bloodlust to cool into righteous fury. Gwaine makes a noise that's close to a growl behind him. Arthur raises his hand and knocks on the door.


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur knocks.  


There is a moment of silence, but soon the sounds of shuffling filter through the wooden door. "Gwaine," Arthur says under his breath as he waits for the bastards to get to the door. "Give me a minute to question them before you do anything, alright?"  


"No promises."  


"I swear you'll get your chance, just -"  


The door swings open, and Sir Robert appears in the doorway. "Your majesty," he says, his voice affected with surprise but not, as one would expect at this late hour, grogginess. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"  


"My manservant was attacked," Arthur replies, and if he weren't so consumed with not punching the man right here and now he would be rather impressed with how calm he sounds. Collected, kingly, like he isn't about to unleash Gwaine on the man before him. "Says some knights are responsible, but he wouldn't give us their names. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"  


"Attacked, sire?"  


The look of surprise wrinkles into an insincere concern that makes Arthur's blood boil. Arthur can almost _feel_ Gwaine's fury building behind him, and he figures he has maybe thirty more seconds, a minute at most, to assure himself of Robert's guilt before Gwaine disregards his orders. "Yes, attacked. He was found half dead in the hallway not an hour ago. Where were you at that time?"  


"In bed, sire," Robert says.  


"Interesting," Gwaine growls from behind him. "Because your shoes are still on."  


For a moment, everything is frozen. A shocked Robert looks down at the same time Arthur does to his boots, still very firmly on his feet. The king and the knight look up and lock eyes.  


And then the moment bursts into a frenzy of activity. Amazingly, considering he's been thinking about it since he woke the rogue, Arthur does not anticipate Gwaine's move as the enraged knight shoves his king - and if Arthur were not just as furious he would curse the fire Merlin sparks in others - aside in favor of throwing himself at Sir Robert. Sir Robert, dressed in his nightclothes with his sword more than halfway across the room, does not stand a chance against Gwaine's unbridled fury. The bastard is on the floor in half a second flat. "Sire!" Robert cries.  


Arthur cannot stop the smirk that curls his lips. "Don't," he says flatly. "Stop."  


"Don't stop?" Gwaine grunts between punches.  


"I've done all I can," Arthur says. "I'm sorry, Sir Robert, but there's nothing more I can do. You're on your own."  


He feels Gwaine's grin more than he sees it. "Gwaine, do me a favor and try not to kill him. We have yet to question him."  


Gwaine doesn't reply, and Arthur steps out and shuts the door on the beaten knight's muffled cries.  


As he strides down the hall towards the next knight due for "questioning," Arthur marvels at the bloodlust that has come over him. He is not a vindictive man by nature - maybe he was, once, back before a certain servant had entered his life - and he does not usually condone the use of physical punishment like this, especially without giving the accused a chance to defend themselves. But he does not think Sirs Robert and Kay had given Merlin much of chance to defend himself when they were the ones beating instead of the beaten one, and Arthur can not bring himself to call Gwaine off. In honesty, he would have liked to have exercised his fists right along with his friend, but somebody had to confront Kay, and Arthur is not sure he would be able to do it without tipping Kay off if Robert's blood stained his knuckles.  


What Arthur cannot understand as he makes his way towards Sir Kay is why either of them, his knights, would target his _servant_. Merlin is kind to everyone, always with an idiotic grin on his face, and it makes no sense for anyone to hurt him. What ill could he possibly have done to them to deserve the hell they'd obviously given him? Or maybe it was not Merlin the men had been going after at all, but Arthur himself. Merlin knows more about the king than anyone besides Gwen, and she'd be much harder to target inconspicuously.  


Arthur never particularly considered the danger he places Merlin in, outside of patrols and battles, but he is most definitely considering it now, and the thought that he is responsible for Merlin's condition, however indirectly, makes him want to throw up. Is this his fault? Did he bring this down on the only real friend he'd made in a long, long while? Because if he had, it would explain why Merlin is so reluctant to answer questions about his beatings and why he had not come to Arthur earlier. And why the beatings had gone on for so long. The stupid, self-sacrifing idiot would go and get himself killed before he betrayed his friends -  


Thinking about Merlin dying is not helping him at the moment. Feeling sick to his stomach, Arthur pushes the thought aside and finds himself standing in front of Kay's door. He can't say how long he has been there, but there is no sense in wasting anymore time.  


He knocks, and Kay answers much more quickly than Robert had. At the sight of the bastard's face Arthur is suddenly very regretful that he did not wait for Gwaine to finish up with Sir Robert so he could have helped Arthur with Sir Kay.  


Something of his thoughts must show on his face, because Kay immediately blanches. "Sire," he says. "I can explain."  


"I don't want your _explanations _," Arthur snarls. "Except why you think you have any right to go anywhere near -"__  


"It's your servant, Sire. He's hiding something from you. Something you'll very much like to know about."  


_________________________  


"I cannot believe," Gaius says as he finishes off the binding on Merlin's ribs "that you were so careless. In the _armory_ -"  


"I've done it before," Merlin retorts, and immediately winces as the words scrape their way up his windpipe. Percival and Elyan are standing outside the chamber door, and neither warlock nor physician are speaking above hushed whispers, which is not the best for Merlin's abused throat. It is not the best for Merlin's mental energy either - he's drawn tight as a string with fear and worry and he cannot take Gaius' anger on top of everything else. He's already endured a barrage of questions from first Arthur then Gwaine, who'd taken one look at Merlin's chest and demanded to know who was responsible (Percival and Elyan had spared him the wringer, thank god.) He isn't ready for the much more intensive and much less sympathetic interrogation from his mentor. Gaius must be a whole new level of angry to even be alluding to Merlin's magic with the knights so close, whispering or not.  


"That's no excuse," Gaius snaps at full volume. He and Merlin look to the door in unison, but either Percival and Elyan didn't hear them, or more likely, the two are choosing to give the physician and patient some level of privacy. Gaius lowers his voice back down to a whisper before he speaks again. "We have discussed how you complete your chores a thousand times before. How many times do I have to tell you to be careful?"  


Merlin sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. His brain hurts, his body hurts, and he wants nothing more than to curl up in his bed and sleep for a century. _Well_ , he thinks sourly, _at least I can probably wrangle a day off out of Arthur for this. Maybe a whole lifetime off if he finds out about my magic._  


Maybe the thought would have struck him as funny, in a semi-hysterical kind of way, if Arthur had not chosen that exact moment to stride into the chambers with a look of rage in his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

"It's your servant, Sire. He's hiding something from you. Something you'll very much like to know about."  


Arthur clenches his fists so hard his nails cut crescents into the flesh of his palm. "What do you think you could say," the king growls, "that would make me rethink the punishment I have in mind for you?" Arthur didn't actually have a punishment in mind - well, he had a few, but he got the feeling that no matter how much he might want to he would regret having Kay drawn and quartered in the morning.  


"Sorcery."  


Arthur only pauses for a moment, but it's enough for Kay to take it as an invitation to keep talking. "Your servant has magic, sire, Robert and I saw him," Kay says earnestly. He has this conspiratorial look on his face that elicits a strong urge in Arthur to knock his lying teeth out. "In the armory, after we had finished hunting the wyverns, we saw him. He was polishing a shield, your highness, with _magic_." He drops his voice to a low, silky purr that reminds Arthur momentarily of Agravaine. "I know that we should have brought it to your attention immediately, Sire, but I'm a forgiving man. He was only doing hedge magic, and Robert and I thought we could give him a second chance. If you don't mind me saying so, your highness, I know how... _fond_ of him you are. We hoped to spare you that pain. It was wrong of us, but we thought he could change him. We were fools: sorcerers can never change. That servant of yours is -"  


Arthur thinks that Kay really should've seen the blow to the head coming, but it's evident that he saw no such thing as he reels backwards, his hand shooting up to his bleeding nose as he stumbles before catching his balance. "I will not stand here and listen to you spout lies," Arthur hisses. "Merlin is a loyal servant, and a better man than you will _ever_ be."  


Arthur stops, collects himself. Somehow, the man's words have left the king even angrier than when he had first stood on the knight's doorstep. Maybe because somewhere deep inside Kay's accusations have struck a cord: after all, everyone Arthur has ever cared about has turned and stabbed him in the back, and why should Merlin be an exception? Merlin, the best friend he has ever had - Arthur thinks a betrayal from the bumbling servant might destroy him.  


But Merlin wouldn't. That, more than anything else, is what steadies his voice when says, "You are hereby stripped of your title and banished from Camelot on pain of death. You have until sunrise tomorrow to arrange your affairs and leave the kingdom." He drops the regal tone, stares the shocked man down and makes sure his face shows every ounce of fury he's feeling. "If I ever see you or Sir Robert again I'll kill you myself. Same goes for anyone who so much as touches my servant. Do we understand each other?"  


Kay nods, skin ashen in the flickering light from the torches in the hall. Still, as Arthur turns his back on him, he says, "You'll believe the word of a lowly servant over that of a knight?" His tone is incredulous and full of a self-righteous anger that makes Arthur waver on his decision not to kill him.  


Gwaine decides to make an appearance, then, tiny drops of blood speckling his shirt and bruises forming on his cheeks, saving Arthur from having to respond. What timing that man has.  


"Robert?" Arthur says casually as he steps past Gwaine and into the corridor. Something he thinks might be adrenaline is mixing with the anger, because even though he's done his job, ensured that those pieces of scum will never go near Merlin again, all he wants to do is hit something. Again.  


"I made certain things clear to him," Gwaine spits. "I don't think we'll be seeing him again."  


For an instant, Arthur wonders idly if Gwaine's gone and killed him, but it soon transpires that he really doesn't care. He nods at the knight, and walks away to the sounds of Kay repeating his "I can explain" line. He almost snorts. If Kay thinks he's going to get anywhere with anything resembling reason when Gwaine's like this, then he's stupid as well as despicable. Arthur pauses to consider whether or not he's going to regret all the violence he's allowed to happen tomorrow.  


He thinks not.  


Making his way back to Gaius', Arthur can't help but roll Kay's words over in his mind. Sorcery. _Sorcery_. How dare he accuse Merlin of such a thing, how dare he - 

The mere thought of Merlin doing something so profoundly evil wriggles under his skin and nests there, prickly and uncomfortable, and Arthur does his best not to entertain the thought seriously, but if he's being honest with himself he knows that some of boiling rage he feels at Kay's accusation stems from the possibility that it could be true.  


He's still seething when he arrives at the old physician's door. Percival and Elyan nod respectfully at his approach, but neither says anything, even though it's clear Elyan wants to ask. Arthur doesn't know what Percival's thinking. He never knows what Percival's thinking. "The problem's been dealt with," he says to them.  


"Good," Elyan replies quietly. "Who was it?"  


"Robert and Kay."  


No surprise crosses either of the knight's faces. "I never liked them," Elyan says. "They were condescending and arrogant at best and cruel at worst."  


_Like I used to be_ , Arthur can't help but think. To Elyan, he says, "I don't think we'll be seeing them again."  


"And Gwaine?" Percival asks. His voice is soft, as it always is, but the unexpected sound startles Arthur anyway.  


"I left him down there. He's having a calm, reasonable discussion with Kay at the moment."  


Elyan snorts.  


Arthur can feel his face darkening, but he does nothing to stop it. "They deserved it, I promise you." He claps the two men on the shoulder. "Thank you for standing watch." Both nod, and Arthur pushes Gaius' door in and strides in.  


Merlin and Gaius look up in unison, and Arthur doesn't miss the alarm that shoots across their features. He knows he must be a sight, angry as he is and with Kay's blood on his knuckles, and he makes a conscious effort to calm down. Now that the threat has been taken care of he can sit down and have an actual conversation with Merlin, can figure out why this happened and why Merlin didn't tell him, and for that to happen he can't be this worked up. He'll end up taking it out on the servant for being so bloody _stupid_ as to think that Arthur wouldn't put a stop to it immediately -  


He takes a breath.  


"Merlin," he says, and even though he wants to have this talk in private, this is the question he wants answered, that he needs answered, and not just because of what Kay said. "Why were the knights targeting you?"  


Merlin's gaze drops from his, but not before Arthur catches the fear that flashes across his features.


End file.
